


Rebels At Bay

by Straight_Outta_Hobbiton



Category: Bleach
Genre: For Want of a Nail, Gratuitous use of Star Wars quotes, In which Ichigo is a Star Wars nerd and that changes everything, M/M, Technically Force Powers?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 09:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14829884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Straight_Outta_Hobbiton/pseuds/Straight_Outta_Hobbiton
Summary: Ichigo was a Jedi long before he was a shinigami, and no, it wasn't just a phase.





	Rebels At Bay

Renji is going to die, and he knows it. He knows it, he accepts it, and he doesn’t give a damn.

 

“I’ll never let her go, you bastard,” he hisses, giving his former captain a vicious smile.

 

If anything, Aizen’s smile only grows.

 

“I see,” he says, raising his weapon. “How… unfortunate.”

 

Renji stiffens, his grip on Rukia tightening, and lets his eyes slip shut as he braces himself for the killing blow.

 

It never comes.

 

Instead, there is a high-pitched, wailing shrieking sound, and Renji’s eyes fly open to see Ichigo standing in front of him, his strange, mechanical zanpakuto crossed against Aizen’s.

 

“Yo!” Ichigo greets, voice straining slightly as he pushes up against Aizen’s strength. His face is lit strangely, tinged blue from the light of the blade that crackles slightly where metal touches pure, highly-focused reiatsu.

 

“Why are you crouching on the ground? Is Rukia really that heavy?” Renji sees Ichigo’s cheek lift, like he’s _ smiling,  _ of all things. “I’ve come to help, Renji!”

 

Aizen’s face hasn’t moved, but he pulls Kyoka Suigetsu away sharply, sparks flying as he runs his blade almost curiously across Ichigo’s zanpakuto. Ichigo lets him, already moving into a defensive position.

 

Renji is too surprised to respond. He— where the hell had Ichigo come from? Surely he would have noticed, considering Ichigo’s literally the only person wearing those frankly ridiculous, rough brown robes.

 

“So… he’s Aizen?” Ichigo asks for a beat, frowning slightly.

 

Renji swallows.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Do you still have enough energy to run away?”

 

“I do,” Renji admits. “But I’m not running.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’ve got a plan.” Renji straightens, clutching Rukia to his chest as he eyes Zabimaru’s broken blade. “Zabimaru’s broken form has its uses. I’m going to fight.”

 

“But Renji—”

 

“I’m sure you know by now… it’s impossible to just run.”

 

Ichigo’s frown deepens, but he stays quiet.

 

“I’m not saying we have to beat them,” Renji continues. “But unless we immobilize them somehow, they’ll just drag us here without breaking a sweat.”

 

Ichigo seems to think about this, eyes darting between Renji and Aizen, who’s still _ fucking  _ smiling at them, the asshole. Then, he straightens, mouth curving into a sly grin.

 

“So it’s that sort of fight, then,” he says, looking to Aizen. “In which case, don’t worry about it, Renji, I’ve got this. Let Zabimaru rest.”

 

He turns to Aizen, his grip on Zangetsu’s hilt relaxing until the blade dips towards the ground.

 

“You must be quite proud of yourself, Aizen,” Ichigo says, his voice lilting and strange. “You must be quite certain in your power.”

 

“And you must be certain in yours, Kurosaki Ichigo,” Aizen says, unmoving. “To let your guard down as you have.”

 

“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” Ichigo says, leaning back on his heels. “Do you really think you’re so damn powerful?”

 

“It is foolish to deny one’s own strength.” Aizen tilts his head almost thoughtfully. “Just as it is foolish to believe yourself stronger than you are.”

 

“Do you think I’m being foolish?” Ichigo arches an eyebrow. “You don’t know anything about me, Aizen.”

 

Aizen lets out a low, terrifying chuckle.

 

“I know everything about you, child,” he says, letting his own sword drop. “From the moment you were born, I was there, just out of sight, watching every move you ever made.”

 

Ichigo arches an eyebrow.

 

“Creep,” he says bluntly. “You get your kicks stalking kids? What a pervert.”

 

Aizen’s jaw ripples. Oh, shit, they’re gonna die even _ harder,  _ now, Renji thinks. Why the hell did Ichigo think it was a bright idea to goad him? He’s already proven himself more powerful—

 

“You are a petulant child,” Aizen says, disdain coloring his words. “Your fate is clear, your path absolute in its end.”

 

Ichigo’s smile widens, and he says, almost cheerfully.

 

“Only a Sith Lord deals in absolutes.”

 

… What?

 

“I’m going to beat you and your lackeys,” Ichigo continues, thumb finding the button on the side of his blade and powering it down. “Without using Zangetsu. Thanks for the opportunity, by the way— I’ve been dying to try this ever since I got some _ real  _ power behind me.”

 

He tucks his zanpakuto into the dusty brown fabric of his obi and rolls his shoulders, raising his hands palm out to Aizen.

 

“So?” he asks, impatient. “Which one are you going to throw at me first?”

 

Another twitch. Without further adieu, Aizen glances over his shoulder.

 

“Tousen, if you would.”

 

The man doesn’t hesitate, hurtling at Ichigo with all the speed that shunpo could give him, sword raised high. Ichigo can’t block it— Renji knows he can’t— but it turns out he doesn’t have to, because with a wave of his hand, Tousen goes flying, crashing into the rocks nearly fifty feet away.

 

_ “What?”  _ Aizen takes a step back, zanpakuto raised once more. “What was that?”

 

“The Force,” Ichigo says calmly. “It’s all around us— you guys call it reiryoku, but it’s basically the same. Works the same way, too, if you’re willing to learn.” He glances at Tousen, raising a hand. As if by some magic, the captain’s blade flies, landing neatly in Ichigo’s palm. With another wave, Tousen’s body is buried by rocks, leaving only his head visible.

 

“I had this sort of stuff pretty much down before I was thirteen,” Ichigo continues, tone conversational. “But, y’know, it’s not fair for a Jedi to use his powers on unsuspecting civilians, even if they are thugs. But you’re not a thug, Aizen, and neither are your subordinates.” He stabs Tousen’s zanpakuto into the dirt by his feet. “As far as I can tell, you’re plain Darkside, and it’s a Jedi’s duty to fight Darkness in the universe— to defeat it, if he can.”

 

He sighs.

 

“I think I’ll probably have to kill you,” he says, a little sorrowful. “You Palpatine types never know when to quit. But there’s hope for Ichimaru, over there.” He nods at the silver-haired captain. “There’s still Light in him, yet. I can feel it.”

 

Aizen stays quiet, but there’s a tension in his shoulders, like maybe Ichigo got to him.

 

“An entertaining party trick, perhaps,” he says, raising his sword once more. “But nothing more. You are nothing, Kurosaki, just another part of a plan spanning over a century!”

 

He leaps at Ichigo, blade glinting in the light, but Ichigo doesn’t waver, throwing up his hands in a blocking motion that stops Aizen’s blade centimeters from making contact with his skull. With another push, Aizen goes flying just as readily as Tousen, flipping ass over tea kettle into the dirt.

 

“What? _ How?”  _ Aizen demands, already on his feet again. “How do you move reiryoku as if it is a part of you?”

 

“Many of the truths we cling to depend on our point of view,” Ichigo says. “You— and every other shinigami I’ve met so far— trained in the Gotei’s way of doing things. It’s alright, I guess— a little rigid, maybe, and far too strict, as far as I’m concerned— but the rules they taught you became your truth. Me, on the other hand…” Ichigo trails off, shrugging. “I had Star Wars, and according to Star Wars, you can be one with the Force.” He waves his hand again, planting Aizen in the dirt by the throat.

 

The man writhes, clawing at his neck as he struggles.

 

“Gin!” he gasps. “Kill him!”

 

Gin looks between Ichigo and Aizen, fingering the hilt of his zanpakuto uncertainly. Then, he looks at Ichigo.

 

“He’s my kill,” he says after a moment, drawing his blade. “I’ve been plannin’ it for a century.”

 

“Really?” Ichigo frowns. “He must have done something really awful to you.”

 

“Not to me.” Gin lifts his sword. “To one of my friends.”

 

Understanding fills Ichigo’s amber eyes. He nods, jaw clenching slightly.

 

“Then by all means,” he says, twitching a finger and pulling Aizen from the ground. “Do you want me to hold him still, or…?”

 

Gin’s eyes widen just slightly, just enough for Renji to see a flash of blue before they close again.

 

“Yeah, that’s alright, I guess,” he says after a moment, looking back at Aizen. “I like him helpless.”

 

He raises his zanpakuto with a steady hand, pressing the tip to Aizen’s heart—

 

“Shoot to kill, Shinso.”

 

— and then, it’s all over.

  
  


*.*

  
  


Ichigo is an extraordinary young man, in more ways than one. Aizen’s illusions shattered with his death, leaving behind only a corpse— a real one, this time— and a lot of people demanding an explanation. Ichigo refused them all, though, not until he has his teacher with him.

 

Kisuke never thought he’d see the Seireitei again, but here he is, settled in the little rooms he and Ichigo and the rest of his friends had been given until everything was sorted out to Yamamoto’s— and the Central 46’s— satisfaction.

 

Currently, it’s only him and Ichigo sitting on the little balcony attached to the apartment they’d all been assigned, the rest of the party still sleeping off long healings and just general exhaustion. Ichigo should be sleeping too, honestly, but he’s been restless, these past few days.

 

Kisuke had tried to apologize to Ichigo, for what he’d done. The boy had punched him in the face. After that, they’d found some sort of comfortable middle ground, caught between Ichigo’s casual kindness and Kisuke’s fascination-turned-care. Somewhere in the middle of all this, Kisuke’s managed to figure out that Ichigo will pretty much answer any question posed to him as honestly as he can, provided it’s simple and straight to the point.

 

Kisuke hasn’t worked with either concepts in far too long, but he thinks he’s getting better— at least, where Ichigo is involved.

 

“You haven’t been sleeping,” he remarks as Ichigo fiddles with the sleeve of the plain green yukata one of First Division’s men had provided for him. “Why?”

 

Ichigo lets out a little sigh.

 

“I feel… weird,” he admits after a moment. “I’ve never actually used the Force to kill someone, before.”

 

“You didn’t kill anybody,” Kisuke points out. “Ichimaru-san did.”

 

“... I didn’t strike the killing blow, but…” Ichigo trails off, shaking his head. “I don’t know. It feels… tainted, now. I probably shouldn’t have done it.”

 

“If you hadn’t done it, you’d be dead, now,” Kisuke says. “Everyone would be dead.”

 

Ichigo doesn’t answer. Kisuke sighs.

 

“I know you don’t want to hear it,” he says after a moment, eyes fixed on the horizon. “But I really am sorry. About everything.”

 

His student feels guilty about his first kill, after all, indirect as it may be. If Kisuke hadn’t done what he’d done, if he hadn’t hidden the Hogyoku in the Kuchiki girl, he wouldn’t be dealing with that right now. Aizen would still be alive, yes, but Ichigo, at least, wouldn’t be… solemn.

 

Kisuke would pull a prank on him, just to rile him up and wipe the melancholy from his expression, but from his current position he can see at least six Omnitsukido stationed on the rooftops overlooking their particular balcony, and he doesn’t think they’d take too kindly to one of his inventions right now. If anything, they’d take the opportunity to kill them all and say they tried to escape.

 

That’s what Kisuke would do, if someone like Ichigo was hanging around the Seireitei and he was in charge.

 

“It’s okay, Urahara-san,” Ichigo says, tearing him from his reverie. “I don’t really understand why you did it— you haven’t explained that part yet— but you probably had a good reason.”

 

“I— I’m responsible for the fall of several high-ranking shinigami,” Kisuke says, looking down. “Because of the Hogyoku, they were— changed. By Aizen. They were slated for execution because of it, and if it weren’t for Yoruichi-san, they’d all be dead. And me.”

 

Ichigo looks at him curiously.

 

“Are they in the World of the Living?” he asks.

 

“Yes.” Kisuke hesitates. “... You’ll be introduced to them soon, I expect. They… you’re like them. Hollowfied.”

 

Ichigo goes quiet for a moment, eyes widening in realization.

 

“So _ that’s  _ what that thing was,” he says. “When I fought Byakuya, it took control— nearly killed him, too.”

 

Kisuke shifts uncomfortably.

 

“Yes,” he says. “There is a way to control your Hollow, though— Hirako-san would be willing to train you, especially after all this.”

 

“Well, that’s good.” Ichigo rubs an idle hand through his hair. “I’d hate to lose it near my sisters or something— I could really hurt them.”

 

Kisuke almost laughs. He just told his student he’d hollowfied him, and his first worry isn’t for his own sanity, but rather the safety of his little sisters.

 

He’s never met anyone as wholly good as Ichigo.

 

A hand slaps against his chest, too weak to do anything but startle him.

 

“Hey,” Ichigo says, frowning. “Stop making that face. You only make that face when you’re thinking about me.”

 

“I’m not thinking about you,” Kisuke lies, looking up.

 

Ichigo snorts.

 

“Sure you are,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You think about me all the time. You love me.”

 

“Love?” Kisuke doesn’t love anybody, except for maybe Yoruichi-san. He _ likes  _ Ichigo, certainly, he likes him a lot— but _ love?  _ That seems like a strong word.

 

“The love part’s a more recent development,” Ichigo allows, giving him a small smile. “But it’s there. It’s been there ever since they brought you through the Dangai and they told you I wanted you here.”

 

What— no—

 

“Slander and calumny,” Kisuke says. “You are just a hapless pupil, one I’ve decided to have mercy on and ensure you don’t kill yourself doing reckless things.”

 

Ichigo stares at him a moment, then closes his eyes, throwing his head back in a genuine laugh.

 

“Yeah, okay,” Ichigo says agreeably. “I suppose I’m a little young for that sort of thing now. But maybe in a couple decades, you know, we can talk about it again. Maybe you’ll even admit to it.”

 

Kisuke swallows, throat suddenly dry.

 

“I’ve got nothing to lie about,” he says.

 

Ichigo laughs again.

 

“I’m sure you don’t,” he says. “But that’s okay.” He pushes himself to his feet, pausing as he moves to open the door leading inside to touch Kisuke’s shoulder.

 

“I’ll be honest, I’m not in love with you yet,” Ichigo says. “But you’re handsome enough, and I like you. Even without that advantage on your side, though, I get the feeling that you’re the sort of man who’s very easy to fall in love without, even without trying. Based on the way my dad talks about it, I think I’ll enjoy it a lot, either way.”

 

He squeezes Kisuke’s shoulder, and his fingers feel like bands of hot iron through the thin fabric of Kisuke’s nightshirt. After a moment, Ichigo lets go.

 

“I’m going to bed,” he says, sliding the door open. “Talk to you in the morning?”

 

Kisuke takes a moment to find his tongue and brush out the knots.

 

“Of course, Kurosaki-kun,” he says. “Maybe you’ll even allow me to more fully debate the subject of my being in love with you. We might even come to an agreement.”

 

Ichigo gives him a warm, gentle smile, usually reserved only for his sisters.

 

“I’d like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> I figured Ichigo at some point was a stupid pre-teen boy and built his personality around the things he liked, as pre-teen boys do. Since all the zanpakuto seem to be really obvious about what kind of people their wielders are (I mean, Tousen's literally forces people to fight with the same disadvantage he has all the time, Yumichika's is beautiful and deadly, Kyoraku's is basically the setup to a Saw movie... geez, that's dark), it would make sense for his zanpakuto to reflect an obsession with Jedi.
> 
> As for how his Force Powers work, I figure it could be considered an adaptation of that puppet thing that the Quincy do to control their bodies when they're unable to move. His is just way more dramatic.
> 
> The conversation between Renji and Aizen at the beginning is pretty much verbatim from the Save Rukia Arc.


End file.
